the tranquil day,
A little sock to mend."

I try never to think of an end to my happiness, but somehow the crushing
thought comes and stifles me into abject fear. Then my husband brings
me my little child and the evil thoughts are kissed away.

Yesterday Carlton's eyes filled with tears of gratitude as I sat nursing
our baby before the open grate and running my hand through his thick
brown hair as he sat on the floor beside us. We remain long hours in
silence watching the pictures in the blazing back logs, then suddenly we
embrace to prove mutually that we still have each other.

The river is still a frozen jagged band all down the canon, and the
roads are knee deep with snow and ice. I scarcely breathe while Carlton
is away in his motor, for fear the wheels will skid and hurl him into
endless depths down the mountain side. It is impossible to procure food
without his going to the railroad, but each day I try to believe that I
don't need nourishment just to see if I can't prevent these precarious
errands. We live so naturally and so happily that we are staying on
indefinitely in our frozen love bower.

Dr. Harmen leaves tomorrow after weeks of rejuvenating pleasures out
here. The nurse will remain to render me such assistance as I need,
though I am so jealous of her care of my son that I shall claim my
mother rights as soon as I am strong enough. Junior has his father's
eyes with all the softness of the blue periwinkle flower in their
splendid depths, and I feel when I hold him in my arms and am held in
turn in Carlton's that I can never give either of them up--even to the
Almighty. I will never give them up. They are mine and I am theirs--for
all eternity.

Adieu sweet friend,
MARIANNE.

February 25.

It has come. The bright fire in the grate is a heap of smouldering ashes
and all the pictures and dreams are dead. I cannot breathe--I cannot
live--I am insane with grief. And the ignorant world teaches of an all
merciful God--an all seeing Father! The irony of it! I cannot live--I
must go too. It will be impossible to go on, and on, alone--forever and
for all eternity--alone--I cannot--I will not!

They are lying down there in their shrouds--my husband and his faithful
Monkaushka with their poor bodies crushed and mangled--O! I cannot tell
you more! The machine is an unsightly heap at the bottom of the